The Empty Bottle
by wolfinthelight26
Summary: World War III hit and the world lost. Under a dictatorship of extreme proportions, three teenagers attempt to bring a little color into their gray world.


13

**The Empty Bottle**

~*~

The year was 3007. We had made many advances in medicine, transportation; we even closed up the ozone layer. Every thing was as you would say, perfect. At least until _he _came along. His name was Randolph Naark, after the one who tried to take over the world in 2977. A war started over him. He tried to ruin the peace that we had accomplished. He wanted the world to become a dictatorship. No one was ever really sure why, for he always denied a mental evaluation… Well, anyway, the third world war was then started. The world was going strong against him and his followers until one day the president of the United States was killed. Nobody was extremely sure what killed him but apparently Naark had some sort of power that we didn't. Three days later we surrendered. The dictatorship started and everything was forced back to how it was in 2020.

The world was in a state of distress, gangs were breaking out, rebel groups were being formed and massacred, and uniforms were enforced. Naark had a thing for cruel torture, so the uniforms were grey shirts with a roman numeral 3 on it, to remind us that we lost, and it was in our eye color. You could wear anything else you wanted like heels, a necklace, or a bracelet. But you had to wear the shirt and dark blue jeans. You could accessorize as much as you wanted. Though, many didn't. Their spirits were crushed and they felt no need to add any color to the world and all grew to a grey and dingy shade. That was why most people didn't take notice to the Empty Bottle building. It was just like everywhere else except for the people who went into it. Most of them did accessorize, with chokers and hair in vibrant colors that circled the color spectrum. Me, I liked a bright pink choker and multi colored hair. With my bright green eyes, I drew a lot of attention. My name was boring though, Stephanie Rolopha, so to make me sound more interesting people call me Sophie. My dad also liked to call me that before the war. When he went off to fight he started to call me Stephanie in letters, emails, and calls. The day he died he called and his last word was Stephanie. My mother had disappeared a long time ago so I was left alone. I wandered for a while until an old man took me in along with two others.

The both of them soon became my brothers. The oldest was Steven Bane. He had midnight black hair, it fell straight down his back to about his shoulder blades and he always had it pulled back with a blue ribbon. His bangs fell into his dark eyes in an elegant manner. He had a nice build about him, strong but comforting. I often found solstice in his embrace, when the dictatorship became too much. He had strong opinions about how the world was run and was not afraid to show them. That made him a rather sought after person for the government. He was the total opposite of his younger brother, though.

Kevin was a loud mouthed, hyperactive, sixteen year old. His short brown hair cringed away from the thought of a brush. He had bright blue eyes that were rarely ever not searching for the next big adventure. Where his brother was very subtle with how he dealt with the goings on in the world, Kevin liked to make a huge spectacle of himself, it had almost gotten him killed multiple times. He somehow always managed to evade capture. He really was a sweet heart though. All the fear that he never showed hurt him on the inside, added on top of his past.

The old man that had taken us in told us that he had found Kevin wandering around the city, like the rest of us, only he was so young. He couldn't be any older than four years old; he still had a bit of toddle to his step. When asked what his name was, he could only answer with Kevin. He didn't know who his parents were by name and he remembered nothing about them. The old man took him in just the same.

We all came to the man within a short window of time, the boys within two weeks of each other, and me, a week later. We were all young enough to quickly become like family, Steven the older brother and protector, me as the middle sister that needed to be protected from herself, and Kevin the slightly annoying younger brother who tried to live up to expectation. We lived rather comfortably for many years. We grew up, saw the war end, learned the new rules, and formed opinions. We had changed greatly from day to day as the world changed around us. We met people but never truly got to know them for we learned quickly that they could be dead the next day. We lived a full life, considering the lives we were forced to live.

When we were seventeen and sixteen, respectively, our lives had changed drastically. The man who cared for us was growing old, we knew it, but it still came as a shock when he died. The only thing that we could be happy about with his death was that he died the way he would have wanted. He had been growing sick for at least a month before and had been worrying that he would die of normal causes. He had been very reckless from that point on. He had started speaking very openly, taking after Kevin in many distinctions. One day he had been speaking out at a secret rally when a group of military agents raided the place. They had been just about to shoot at a young boy who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, when the man had dived in front of the boy and took the bullet instead. The boy had been able to get away which made me smile, for our caretaker's death was not in vain.

That changed all three of us, for we no longer had that parental figure. We were on our own. The one thing that truly held us together was a building that the man had left for us. It was slightly dilapidated and not very appealing from the outside, but the inside was a whole other story. It was three floors with an opening in the middle allowing people to see the bottom from the top. Each level seemed to have its own level of energy. The first was rather calm with simple graphic design on the walls. The main color was a light sky blue with darker shades swirling around each other, creating something that seemed to boggle the mind and get it to start thinking and following the patterns. The next level seemed like a fun but restrained environment. It was different shades of green forming what seemed like a game of pick-up-sticks on the walls. Underneath this mad house of sticks was a slight off shade of olive green. The third and final floor seemed to depict true and utter chaos. A deep red covered the walls while random splotches of other colors created zero order or cause, as if someone had gone into a fit of rage with a paint can on that floor. That floor also held a reasonably sized stage and multiple sets of colored lights. Through the building were dark hard wood floors that caused great acoustics throughout.

We saw what our care taker had been planning and did not plan to let up on his great idea.

~*~

We quickly set our minds on planning for the opening of our building to the public. We wanted it to be a haven for the people, so that they may retain any of the life that still lingered within. We spend hours searching around our city for any spare furniture laying on the side walk. Steven and I did most of the searching because I made a pretty good scout and Steven had the strength to carry it all back. Kevin was the master of refurbishment, though. If you put any kind of run down something in front of him and told him to have at it, it wouldn't be recognizable for too much longer.

We each had our own skill in bringing our dream to life. Kevin would make sure that all the designing and construction was running smoothly, while Steven was up stairs on his pocket computer (I really need to get one of those. Really, a six terabyte hard drive with 20 gigs of memory…) pulling the strings on getting people to come, while keeping everything on the down low. I was busy finding music to play at this joint. I wasn't having the best of luck.

We knew that we were opening a club, that much was certain. We had everything you could think of, lights, color, drinks (Thank you, Steven, our personal bar tender), places to rest, but we were missing the main ingredient. For opening night we really wanted a live band to perform, to give that feel of reality that our world so lacked. Only problem was, that no one played live anymore. I kept searching and searching for week until Kevin finally decided to open his mouth.

"Why don't we play?" It was such a simple answer. We had formed a band years ago. It was small and we did nothing but jam every once in a while, but it was still something. We didn't sound half bad either, at least, that's what people had said. We quickly began making plans for the song list. We each had our own favorites and we added some that were just plain fun to play and dance to. Everything was coming together quickly and efficiently, I should have known that _something_ had to go wrong.

It was the week before the grand opening, we had been putting final touches on everything, and running through songs a few more times, just to make sure no more tweaks had to be made. We were working on one of the opening songs when a loud bang sounded from downstairs. Footsteps and voices were quickly spreading through the building, my pounding heart only adding to the noise in my ears.

Steven quickly put down his guitar, rushing over to the bar where he had stuck his gun during practice. He never liked to use it but knew that in this situation he would do what was needed to protect those he cared about. He looked over to me, silently asking if I was prepared, and I replied with a nod, reaching my hand to my back-pocket, fingering the small metal ball that sat there innocently with its chain hanging ready to be used. I heard Kevin behind me putting his drumsticks down in favor of the beautiful knife he had found on the streets one day. The footsteps were getting closer to us and my breathing became heavier with each step we heard. They began to slow down until the three figure walked up to our floor.

The man was flanked on either side by a guard; they were heavily armed with large, frightening looking guns that I knew could inflict a lot of damage. They were young and didn't seem very sure of themselves, but were too afraid to move from their spots. The man between them was very old, in age and dignity. He stared at the three of us with a deep arrogance, like we were just a bunch of misfits and freaks, almost like something to pity.

"You poor children," His voice came out as a faint rasp, so we had to listen very carefully to hear what he was saying, "Brought up during the time of your dear world falling to its knees. Then you were denied the pleasures of life that I could have provided you, if you had only been raised by the right people, but that _old man_ had in intervene with my plans for you."

"What plans?!" Kevin shouted out behind me and Steven quickly turned to give a look that clearly stated "shut up before we get killed, idiot". Kevin set his face in a steely expression but kept his mouth shut.

"My plans for your greatness of course. But you poor child, you don't remember me, do you Kevin?" His tone was taunting and suddenly it was me giving the questioning glance.

"Why would Kevin know you?" My voice shook as something within me yelled out that I didn't want to know the answer.

"I knew all of you when you were younger. Your parents were such strong people and so close to me, that it's obvious that I would know you. Stephanie, your father was one my head generals in the war. He did not like what I ordered him to do to your poor little people and tried to defy me. I snuffed out that hope quickly enough. And Steven, you have grown to be so much like your mother, so strong, protective, _beautiful_. She was my secretary and the one that made sure that my plans would successful. She, too, wanted to take pity on the people though, so I had to get rid of her. Such a pity. Finally, little Kevin. Your parents actually had very little to do with me. My only interest was in you and it still is. You have always been such a pretty boy, from the first time I saw you when you were little, and I love to keep pretty things around me. I took you from your parents when you were young, to make you mine, but you were rebellious, even then. You ran away from me. If you come back to me, to be one of my dolls, then I will let your little _siblings_ go. If you refuse then I will put your brother through the same thing and your sister… your sister will be lucky to make it out alive." His voice continued to be mocking and bitter sounding as it dawned on me who this man was. Randolph Naark, the dictator and supreme ruler of our world. He knew us, our parents had been on his side, he wanted to take Kevin away, to turn him into a _doll_.

The room had fallen silent after his monologue. We were all in our own little reveries, trying to process it all. It was then that I heard movement behind me. Steven and I quickly turned around to see Kevin rising from his drum set, his eyes downcast and lacking the fire that normally smoldered within them. He slowly walked down to the front of the stage, not passing Steven or me a single glance.

"Kevin…" My voice cracked slightly as he walked by me, but he didn't stop. Steven wasn't going to be that easy on him though. He quickly reached out to his little brother and pulled him back, shaking him as he shouted at him.

"You idiot! You can't possibly be thinking of going with him, are you?! We can take care of ourselves! Do you really think that we would let him take us?! Do you think that I would let him take either of you?! You sre to stay up here with us and I will not hear a word against it!" He was panting slightly by the end of his rant. Kevin just stared up at him, tears welling in his eyes before he flew at Steven and wrapped his arms around the other, sobs wracking his small frame. I quickly stalked over to them joining in their embrace, giving strength to the two of them, while gathering some from them in the same instance.

Suddenly we heard slow clapping coming from Naark. We all looked over to him, preparing for anything he threw our way.

"Such a touching display of family. Now, I need an answer from you Kevin. Remember what is on the line here boy." His impatience was showing greatly thorough his sarcastic tones.

Kevin and I looked to Steven for what to do next. He seemed to be at a loss for a moment before he came to a decision. He lifted his hand slowly, bringing it level with his face and then bend his pinky and ring finger leaving the rest relaxed but straight. That was our signal to give it our all. Kevin was the first to react, as he took the whole situation as his fault and as a personal insult. (He hated being compared to a girl in anyway. He always said that it was because of his short stature.) He let his knife fall from his sleeve where it had been hidden and ran at one of the guards, preparing to attack. He grabbed him and held the knife to his throat, keeping a strong hold on him from behind. The boy had had at least a little training, though, and was able to get out of his hold. He made a mistake though and forgot about his gun. He began trying to wrestle with Kevin, the two rather evenly matched until the other guard attempted to help his partner. Steven sent a bullet flying at his head though. He missed but it got the guard's attention. The load bang had grabbed the attention of the other guards stationed in the building as well.

I ran off the stage in an attempt to help my brothers but one of the original two had gotten out of the fight and grabbed me tightly keeping me where I was. I could only watch as Kevin got pushed into the railing that guarded the empty space between the floors, collapsing it and falling into the empty space. A shot rang out from the floor below us and he let out a short shout of pain before he hit the floor. Steven was falling as well, but if he had it clear he could hit Naark. The other guard was getting in the way though. I quickly pulled an arm free before flinging my ball and chain at the guard. It hit him in the neck and he dropped to the floor. Steven then had a clear aim and got a clean shot at the dictator.

Suddenly I heard the click of a gun behind me before pained flared through my skull and darkness surrounded me.

~*~

That day took the lives of four innocents and the life of a cruel, cruel man. After Naark's government fell, a full investigation was formed on everything that he had done. Apparently he had used the American President's depression against him and led him to suicide. He had also molested and raped many of the boys in his care, including Kevin and Steven. The final total was twenty-four cases of first degree murder and fifteen cases of rape and molestation of minors. All the boys that had been in his care had received the treatment needed after their ordeals. A memorial had also been built in the club the three had created and the plans to open continued as originally planned. The opening night had been extremely successful and business continued to blossom.

The three saviors of the world continued to live on in the lives of anyone who saw color in adversity and never gave up finding the light in shadow.


End file.
